| High on a wire
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| Poised for an imminent fall
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| Clowns always smile
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| Greasepaint and lust in their pores
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| Start to sway and I hold your hand
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| Fall, the smile surrounds his head
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| Hot ashes, clay
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| Hot ashes fade
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| To lean, to err, too far along for me
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| To wait around, to smile is to accept
|
| In center ring
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| Rolling in sawdust and hay
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| Covered in paint
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| Damn everything but the circus
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| Damn the men and the women who stare
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| At the freaks in the cages and snares
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| Hot ashes, clay
|
| Hot ashes fade
|
| To win, to err, to fall too far for safety
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| To lean, to wait a while is too easy
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| To lean towards, to fall too far for me
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| To wait a while around is too easy
|
| To lean too long, to fall too far for safety
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| To seem to smile, to lie is to accept |